Attack on Three Ways
by SquareRootBeer
Summary: Eren, Armin, and Mikasa just can't seem to get enough of each other, but by golly, they'll keep trying anyway. Three-way lemon (MMF). Oneshot. One opportunity. Mature content.


**Attack on Three Ways**

 **Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.**

"Stop it Eren," Armin whispered, his face hidden behind a curtain of golden bangs.

Eren rested his cheek down on his palm, elbow to the table, a sly smile tugging at his lips. In that moment, everything about him screamed bored amusement: his slouched posture, his half-lidded eyes, his lazy grin. You'd never guess by looking at him, especially considering their location (tucked away in the backmost table in the Survey Corps Mess Hall), that he was up to anything at all.

'But then,' Eren thought, leg extended straight beneath the table, sock-covered toes massaging at the crotch of his blonde boyfriend's pants, 'what you see isn't always what you get.'

Mikasa ate her oatmeal beside him in silence, a look of genuine serenity on her exotic, beautiful face. It was just the three of them at the table, and indeed in the mess hall altogether, although that could change at any moment. She let him rub and massage the toned muscle and flesh of her inner thigh without protest, spreading her thighs wider at his nudging insistence.

" _Mikasa,_ " Armin hissed, eyes flickering towards the entrance door every few seconds in dreadful anticipation. "Don't encourage him."

She blew on her oatmeal and shrugged one delicate shoulder. "I don't mind," she said, enjoying the warmth of Eren's groping hand as she ate. "You know how he is."

"Yeah," Eren drawled, the Y of his first and second toes cupping the bottom of Armin's stiff length. He drug the toes gradually upward, eliciting a reluctant moan from the petite blonde as he reached the engorged head, straining against the thick material of his uniform despite his words. "You know how I am, Armin—I can't help it." He leaned forward with a predatory grin. "And isn't it your fault, anyway?" He did the equivalent of making a fist with his toes, squishing the head of Armin's teenage erection. He felt the boy's hips buck lightly upwards. "Looking at me with those come-hither eyes…" Eren grinned, really starting to get excited now, moving from Mikasa's thigh to her soft mound, squeezing and stroking at the pliant flesh through her clothes. "I'm a wind-up toy," he said, eyes shining. "If you turn my crank, of _course_ I'll want to play."

Armin was almost panting now, the torture form Eren's toes driving him into that shy, submissive mindset he always found himself automatically adopting whenever Mikasa (rarely) or Eren (often) started teasing him. They'd been together practicing their strange, nontraditional affection for months now, and he still couldn't overcome the embarrassment he felt whenever things started getting heated.

"Eren," Mikasa said, voice as velvety soft as ever, no hint of the happenings beneath the table to be detected. Armin envied her. "Somebody's coming."

"Three somebody's," he said, winking. Despite his words, he removed his teasing fingers and toes from their bodies, releasing a quiet sigh as he did.

Armin stifled a moan of needy loss. His hands fisted on his thighs as he tried to regain control over his body, not turning to acknowledge the newcomers for fear of them seeing his blushing face.

Eren caught all of this and grinned, eyes crinkling, the thick smugness of an alley cat vulgarly obvious in the lazy slant of his shoulders, in the playful depths of his eyes.

Mikasa continued eating her oatmeal, the smallest trace of a grin tugging at her kiss-me lips.

"Say, Mikasa," Eren began, seafoam orbs turning to appraise the young woman in question, "how much longer do you think you'll be?"

She pushed her bowl away. "I'm done."

Armin aimed a weak glare het way, but she pretended not to notice.

" _Fantastic_ ," Eren said, rising to his feet with an exaggerated stretch and yawn. He shot a jaunty wave towards the other group of early birds when they noticed him, and waited for them to turn away before speaking again. When they did, he turned smoldering eyes downward.

"Eren, there's no _time_ ," Armin said, preempting whatever lewd suggestion his boyfriend might make, knowing that Eren's seemingly endless appetite for him and Mikasa was not something he could resist if it got going.

He realized too late that it hadn't just _gotten going_ , it was going, going, _gone_.

Eren flashed a toothy grin full of challenge and _dare me_. He turned and sat his butt on top of the picnic table, facing his back towards the group eating across the hall. Checking to make sure none of them were watching (they weren't), he tossed one leg over Mikasa, resting his feet on either side of her, against the bench.

Armin gaped, Mikasa blinked, and Eren winked.

"Mikasa," he murmured (although _purred_ might have been a better word for how he said it), "would you unzip me, please? I went to the trouble of getting all of us up nice and early, but Armin says we _don't have time_ to do it properly, so I'm counting on you to do it quickly, okay?"

Mikasa looked up at Eren, blinked again, shrugged, whispered, "Okay," and then undid his trousers right there, not even bothering to _try_ and be stealthy about it. She guessed he wanted a blow job, and while Mikasa preferred having sex within the privacy of their usual spots, she'd do as he asked happily enough. She honestly _couldn't_ care less what the other scouts in the Survey Corps though of her, and while they might get in trouble (something she did care about, because that could affect her boys), Eren was explicitly asking her to do this, and so, of course, she would.

A coiling sensation in her center made itself known.

'And I guess this _is_ kind of exciting, too…'

She wet her lips, studying the tented boxers before her. She could smell him through the thin cotton, an aphrodisiac mix of lye soap and musky sweat that had become her favorite scent over the past few months. Armin whispered frantically behind Eren's back (as quietly as he could, so as not to draw attention), but Mikasa ignored his pleas for them to stop, grabbing near the top of her childhood hero's sex, her thumb pressing gently up into the cleft peak of his swollen head's crown, right below where his slit was, a tiny bead of colorless pre-love darkening the plain white fabric there.

She looked up at him, and he, down at her.

A good deal of that cocky alley-cat attitude was gone, replaced by something softer.

'Something better,' Mikasa thought, a dark blush flooding and coloring her naturally pale complexion all at once. She enjoyed his touch, didn't mind his charged teasing, and put up with his silly games, but it was his heart, and his sharing it with her, that drove her mad. He was more than just a person—he was a world—he was _her_ world—and she was never so close to bursting with happiness and content and love and warmth and peace as she was when he acknowledged her.

'Reciprocity,' she though distantly, jacking her hand up and down his stiff length with practiced skill, 'is everything.'

He moaned, low and quiet but enough that she could hear all the lovely things inside it. Her eyes grew dark with lunatic adore.

"Eren," she whispered, frantic now, Armin even more so, recognizing the look. "Eren—I want it," she said, fingering the little button that sealed the fold in his underwear, her preternaturally dexterous fingers now dumb spears of jelly, rendered rubber by her growing frenzy.

She hooked two of the fumbling digits into either side of the stubborn article's flap, intent on _ripping_ her target free (she'd sew the button back on for him later, as a proper wife ought to) when Armin finally said what Eren had been waiting to hear.

His warm hands on hers saved his boxers.

"Zip me up," he said, moving his hands from hers to her head, threading and combing her silken tresses, bringing her back to some semblance of lucidity.

The pads and nails of his fingers sent little bolts of lightning arcing down her scalp, the hairs near the base of her neck rising erect like Eren and Armin's _cocks_ (a word she thought with no small amount of fervor). They both looked ready to go.

Hell, so was she.

Mikasa quickly and wordlessly buttoned and zipped Eren's trousers back up, stealing deep sniffs of that lye/musk mix as she worked, focusing hard to make her rubber digits obey her commands and set him to order as quickly as she could.

When he was finally decent, it was she who led the boys out of the mess hall, a manic desire that put Eren's to shame operating the cranks and levers in her head.

'My bunk's the closest,' she thought, either not hearing or ignoring the knowing giggles that followed them out of the mess hall. 'It'll do.'

Armin couldn't stop worrying his lip as Mikasa led him and Eren down the halls. He recognized the paths she was taking as those that led to the barracks, and blushed. They were currently in the Survey Corps HQ, the refurbished castle, which meant that there were enough rooms that only a few people had to bunk together, as opposed to all the males sleeping in one room and all the females sleeping in another, as had been the case back in their cadet days.

They turned another corner and came upon a groggy eyed Sasha Blouse, no doubt up earlier than she'd like for the sake of extra food. The friendly look in her eye turned mischievous as she hailed them, taking a comically exaggerated step out of Mikasa's way as they met.

Mikasa nodded to her, Eren flashed a wolfish grin, and Armin tried his best not to blush _too_ hard. Theirs was probably the worst kept secret in HQ.

'It's no wonder why,' he thought, the little bit of him that wasn't preoccupied with excited nervousness feeling a flash of exasperation.

Mikasa had snagged Eren's hand and was physically leading him through the halls, and even worse, _Eren_ had snagged _his_ hand and was doing the same, forming some odd, _obvious_ caravan of teenaged tension, oh-so tantalizingly close to being resolved.

Eren looked back and treated him to a smile, not a grin or a smirk or a leer, but a genuinely warm smile, the kind that heralded a kind word or a touching kiss.

He smiled back, forgetting for a moment how embarrassed he was, too caught up in those seafoam depths to worry about the innuendo-laced comments he'd no doubt hear from the others later on—in that moment, all he cared about was the wacky, wonderful pair of people that kept him going.

"We're here," Mikasa said needlessly, throwing open the door to her shared bedroom with enough force that the knob wound up banging against the wall. She didn't even flinch.

Eren cackled.

He was all at once reminded of his embarrassment ( _one_ of them had to feel it, for goodness sake!), but felt at least some of it ease back off upon noticing that they were alone.

"Jeannie gone too?" Eren asked, referring to the one-year-their-senior scout Mikasa and Sasha shared the room with.

Mikasa closed the door, locked it, and immediately started to strip.

"Who cares?" she asked.

Armin blushed harder and Eren cackled again.

Eren watched Mikasa strip and Armin fidget with building obsession. His scalp tingled and itched in that familiar way it did whenever he was pissed off. He wasn't angry _now_ , however, and knew it was just his blood boiling. His clothes felt too tight on his body. His skin was too hot. He grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head, fumbling a bit to get his hands out of the cuffs. By the time he managed to rid himself of the constricting fabric, Mikasa was stepping out of her pants.

Eren's muscles flexed, his nostrils flared, his blood was _hot hot hot!_

"Wait," he said, effectively freezing Mikasa mid-action. She still had her plain white sports bra on, and following a trail of rock-hard abdominals, he could see her cotton panties as well. The slimmest possible line of dark hair could be seen peeking over, the hem of her underwear riding a bit low on her pubic mound. There was a dark spot of excitement just a couple inches lower.

His nostrils flared again. "On the bed," he said, and she scampered to obey. A thrill of excitement shot down from his brain to his cock. He turned drunkenly towards Armin's still fidgeting form and raised an eyebrow. "You too."

"R-right," he said, adorably meek.

Eren pinched his butt (God it's just like a _girl's!)_ as he walked by, eliciting a shreaky-squawk from the blonde.

He walked over and stood at the foot of the bed, bare-chested. Mikasa was laid submissively on her back, arms up by her head, the leg closer to the edge of the bed bent up, the other, laid flat and open. Armin had kicked his boots off, but was otherwise still in uniform, sat Indian-style by Mikasa's bare midriff, picking at the sheet and avoiding his gaze.

Eren closed his eyes, cracked his neck, and let out a deep sigh. 'This is dangerous,' he thought, thumbing the button of his trousers, eyes still shut. 'This tension…'

He wanted to bite his knuckle, but knew better.

"C'mere," he said, no room for refusal in his voice.

They came.

He pushed the bronze button of his trousers through the tough fabric slit, and then, once the main impediment was dealt with, gripped the little metal tongue of his zipper, tugging it down one lace at a time, filling the room with a hypnotizing rhythm of clipping sounds.

Armin and Mikasa watched with shared raptness as he tugged the offending material down, not bothering to step out of the pooled fabric by his ankles. They were sat back on their knees like praying priests—perfectly level for the task he was about to assign them.

Eren stepped in closer, his shins flush against the mattress, his thighs and buttocks flexing, his tented, crescent erection lewdly close. Mikasa reached to free it, a slight parting to her kiss-me lips, a rosy blush, a look so full of desire she almost looked sad; her fine black eyebrows drawn together in doleful supplication—

"Together," Eren said, and she paused, coal black orbs swiveling in their sockets to pin Armin with a needy, encouraging look.

Eren loved watching the two of them interact like this. He played them off of each other at every opportunity.

The petite blonde flushed further, a hopeless clash of desire and arousal and weakening resistance painting his face lovely.

"C'mon," Eren encouraged, seesawing his cock, which was almost painfully hard now, throbbing wildly in search of a pairing, in and out of their personal space, flexing and sending the insistent organ bouncing, lolling between their lips and noses and attentive eyes. "I'm dying here," he exaggerated, lowering a hand to pet and rub at the boy's silken hair. "And you're _so_ good at it, too…"

Armin worried his lip, his resistance faltering, his own arousal growing out of control. He hungered for the heat, the flavor, the stench. He wanted to hear Eren—no, he wanted to _make_ Eren moan, make him pant and writhe, make him buck and shiver. He wanted to impose _his_ will, and see those seafoam gems water and clench shut and testify to his ability.

Eren, sensing he'd stoked his boyfriend's fire high enough, bumped his hips forward. Mikasa understood and unclothed him.

His sex was heavy and long, whether by virtue of genetics or shifting or good old fashioned _practice practice practice_ , he neither knew nor cared. It made Mikasa squirt and Armin come, and that was all he really wanted from it. Circumcision was an older tradition that was less common outside of Wall Maria, but Eren couldn't really say he missed his foreskin, although playing with Armin's was entertaining enough.

Neither of his partners had ever lodged any complaints, at any rate.

"Kiss first," he said, bringing his other hand down to Mikasa's head, now resting a nudging palm on both their skulls. An outsider might mistake him for a priest overseeing a marriage, as sacrilegious as that was.

They looked away from his naked, lightly weeping manhood, and locked eyes.

A shiver ran down Eren's wide back. The levels of passion were stacked in his favor in their little triangle, and he liked it that way for the most part, but there was more chemistry and magic between Armin and Mikasa than anybody who wasn't him would guess. He could force it if he wanted to, but there was no need: their triangle ran on two-way streets of affection and attraction that interconnected each to each to each.

Mikasa's eyes softened as she thumbed Armin's chin, and he smiled bashfully. She leaned in and pressed her kiss-me's against his, sighing pleasantly into his lips. He butted the bridges of their noses together, a soft, secret look in his blue pools.

"You taste like cinnamon," Armin said, a laugh bubbling out of his lips.

Mikasa blinked, the pink tip of her tongue sampling left to right. "Do I? I can't tell."

Armin's eyes crinkled. He pecked her lips again. "That's because you ate two and a half bowls of the stuff—you're more oatmeal than not." He smiled at her again and then turned, looking up at Eren. "Do you want to try? It's kinda funny."

He looked down at the duo with a glass-like fragility hided beneath his lust. He could feel his heartbeat thrumming along in the tips of his fingers. He wondered if they could feel its pulsing throb against their scalps, and if so, whether they'd noticed it skip or not.

"That's okay," he said, almost a whisper. They seemed to pick up on a little bit of the hidden stuff. He grinned and flexed his cock, chuckling when their eyes flew to the bouncing meat. "Just take care of me, okay? And I'll take care of you."

There was a brief moment shared between the three where, with a look, they acknowledged the depth of that covenant. Then, it was over, and Mikasa's lips met Armin's again, only this time the fleshy bell of Eren's glans was in the way, and they ended up splitting the hot, swollen head of their dominant partner between them, sucking on the sides together, then taking turns paying homage to the slit, licking and kissing along his rigid cock whenever the other was busy lavishing attention onto the head.

Eren, at first taken aback by the impossible heat and wetness of their mouths (although _why_ was a fair question, considering the fact that they did this kind of thing as often as they could), regained his footing quickly enough. Able to think again, he returned to massaging their scalps, cooing his encouragement and compliment and praise.

"Look at you two," he said, following his own directions, studying them as they worked. Mikasa was a woman possessed, lathering his shaft up and down, again and again, worshiping him with her supple lips and molten hot tongue, engulfing his cock wholesale whenever her turn to suck came along, swallowing him to the root, squeezing him in her throat—no gagging whatsoever—shaking her yawning jaw from side to side, dragging her nose through his curly brown pubic hair, a pleasant, **scratch-scratch-scratch** sound coming from her nose as she did. She was a superstar, a goddess, a seductive femme fatale.

Armin worked his cock in his own way. His methods and techniques were a bit less pornographic than Mikasa's, but he made up for it (and Eren really thought so) with a mixture of adorable gumption and charm. He'd only get half of Eren's slick heat down, but no matter how many times he coughed or gagged (which drove Eren bananas anyway), he always tried again. The sight of his blonde head bobbing back and forth in front of his crotch sent fire through Eren's veins. He fisted a handful of those shimmering locks in a balanced grip (neither a caress nor a wrench), and tugged him closer, impaling himself down the sinful tunnel of his mouth. Armin gagged but made no move to resist, simply staring his watery blue eyes up at his, trusting those seafoam depths to take care of him, just as they'd promised. Eren pulled a bit more, and Armin did his best to widen his mouth, wanting to help Eren go deeper if it was his desire. Eren shivered, held, thumbed at the moisture in the corner of Armin's right eye, and then withdrew, leaving his petite, submissive boyfriend's mouth behind.

"You're getting really good at that, Armin," Eren cooed, threading his fingers up through the kneeling boy's bangs, exposing his forehead. He bent over and kissed it, and then his lips, unmindful of himself on them. Mikasa's head was buried beneath his folded midsection, sucking and humming on and around his slobbery cock while they kissed.

Armin pulled back, a half-flat half-amused look stealing over his face upon seeing Mikasa.

"Not as good as her," he said, rubbing along her back to let her know he wasn't upset.

Eren stood back straight and laughed. "No," he said, pulling at the back of Mikasa's head with both hands, cramming himself deep down her gullet without the slightest resistance. "But that's just Mikasa, right? Our girl's good at pretty much everything. Not that _you_ should be complaining—I saw the two of you last night."

Armin blushed. Yesterday had been their hard drilling day, and not only did he struggle with the intense physical regimen, he'd been dealing with a headache from around noon on. They didn't get to get together on most training days, but Mikasa had noticed and given him a good blowjob in the showers before lights-out. He didn't know Eren had seen them, although it probably explained why he'd gotten them up so early, raring to go.

Eren wiped a spot of drool leaking down Mikasa's chin without comment, still enjoying her massaging tongue and mouth as it housed his manhood. She was dry-swallowing for an extra little _mmm!_ and he could feel himself nearing that sweet edge.

"You look like you're about to come," Armin observed with some excitement, rubbing and scratching circles into Mikasa's back for won't of something to do. She was usually good about sharing, but Eren had been the one to put her in her current position, so it was up to him (or Armin) to get her out of it—she wouldn't pull back until one of them told her to—she'd see it as disobedience otherwise.

Eren looked down at Mikasa and pinched her nose closed. Her coal orbs swiveled up.

"He's right," Eren said, by way of explanation. "Drink up now, okay?"

She nodded around his cock.

Armin shifted on the bed and wrapped his slender arms around her bare belly, so toned and steady, and pressed a kiss into her shoulder, watching over it as Eren tipped over the edge.

"Coming," he said, teeth gritting, eyes wincing, the hand that wasn't pinching Mikasa's nose balling into a fist, bicep and forearm bulging, an almost effeminate keen escaping from his bared throat.

Armin watched in awe as Mikasa's esophagus lurched again and again, visible in its bobbing through the pale skin of her neck. She drank his seed down as quickly as he could shoot it, which was really pretty astounding when you took Eren's unusually heavy loads into consideration; the boy came like a hose, as Armin could attest to, and listening to the lewd swallowing sounds as Mikasa accepted his liquid love, nose still pinched, lips still stretched, was driving him crazy. He licked her shoulder like a hound, then sucked on it, worrying a love-mark into existence as his hands began to wander. With one, Armin palmed and squeezed her breasts through the tight cotton that bound them, and with the other, he snaked his way into her panties, parting her trimmed labia with his second and fourth fingers, plunging the middle into her impossibly perfect sex, all warm and wet tightness that hugged his intruding digit like a long lost lover.

Eren watched all of this through one seafoam gem, the other shut in a wince as his orgasm swept him up in a flood of hypersensitive ecstasy, Mikasa's seizing throat muscles, dolefully upturned eyes, serene, steadily reddening face—all of it, driving him higher up the peak than he'd anticipated—the sideshow of his boyfriend fingering and groping and nibbling on his girlfriend granting him an unexpected second wind, which manifested as several more ropes of salty come that traveled straight from his lurching balls, through his throbbing, engorged cock, and down into Mikasa's flawless body.

" _Shit,"_ Eren whined, his hips bucking forward on their own. Mikasa gurgled, and he was quick to release her nostrils, feeling a little bad and a lot excited as they immediately began sucking in deep tugs of air, pausing only when her cheeks began to bulge with backed-up batter, and resuming again when she swallowed that down. _"Shit._ You're so good, it's stupid." He felt his overzealous organ beginning to calm down and forced his muscles to relax. For a moment he almost thought he'd pulled something, until a quick series of flexes proved otherwise.

"Alright?" Armin asked, a drop of genuine concern in a pool of amusement.

Eren scoffed, rolled his shoulders, and began the precarious task of extracting his too-sensitive cock from Mikasa's gullet. It'd be easier to just tell her to ease up, but he knew what she was in it for: the totality, the symbolism, the emotional parallelism… He sighed and let her drain him at her leisure, distantly amused by his own thoughts.

When the last thick drop of sperm-rich come had been sucked from his straw, Eren pulled himself out of his girlfriend's mouth, a wet **pop** drawing a girlish giggle from Armin.

Eren looked from Mikasa to his boyfriend wrapped around her back, still massaging her breasts and pussy absentmindedly. He raised an eyebrow and settled his hands on his hips. "Why aren't you naked?" he asked, and then looked back to Mikasa. "Why isn't he naked?"

She was leaning back against Armin now, resting her head in the crook of his neck, licking her lips. She stopped at his question, and turned her head to stare up into his liquid blue pools. "Why aren't you naked?" she asked, leaning forward to nibble along his jaw while he thought about it.

"Tell him he's too pretty for clothes," Eren instructed.

Mikasa leaned up, past his jaw, laying her swollen lips on his earlobe. "You're too pretty for clothes, baby," she whispered, taking the lobe hostage between her pearly whites a moment later.

Armin shivered. "Don't you mean handsome? Besides, what about you?" he asked, snaking another finger into her liquid heat, tugging his ear free of her teeth to turn and capture those kiss-me's, mining the sweet remnants of boycome from her cavernous mouth one lick at a time.

Something about that flipped a switch in her brain, and she was suddenly wriggling in his arms, sweet moans like lullabies filling the room.

Eren felt a tension near the root of his cock, and realized that he was hard once again.

'Go figure,' he thought, seafoam studying, memorizing, imprinting the image of his man and woman intertwined in passion. "Undress each other," he said, a tremble in his lips. Electric thrums were pulsing out through his body, starting in his head, then traveling outwards. He felt drunk and supernaturally aware at the same time, and swayed on his feet for the fun of it while waiting for his will to be done.

Armin and Mikasa looked up at the order, breaking from their kiss to pay Eren their attention. The look in his eyes was unusually difficult to read, but his command was simple enough.

"Lay back, honey," Mikasa said, and Armin's heart swelled at the endearment. As little as you'd guess it, she, more than either of them, had a fondness for using the sweet nicknames. "I'll do you first."

He nodded, withdrew his fingers from her adoring depths, and lowered himself back atop the fluffy black duvet. His eyes drifted towards Eren's on their own. "You just want to watch?"

'Spectate,' Eren thought. That was a better word for what he wanted to do. Behold fit, too. He kept these obsessive thoughts to himself, folding one arm across his chest to support the other, which cupped and stroked the bottom half of his mouth slowly. "You don't mind, do you?" he asked, walking over to the side of the bed closest to the show. He pulled a chair up backwards and sat in it, resting on its high back first his forearms, then his chin.

"Of course not," Armin said, a soft look swimming in his cerulean pools.

Mikasa didn't even bother answering—if she hadn't made her devotion clear by now… Well, the point was, she had, over and over and over again. Instead, she focused on her assigned task: undressing Armin Arlert.

"Your feet are cute," she said, starting there, rolling the white cotton down his ankles with deft fingers. When his feet were bare, she scratched lightly at their tops, smiling when they fled.

"Tickles…"

"Sorry," she said, not meaning it but relenting all the same.

Eren snorted quietly in amusement and continued watching.

She was at his waist now, balancing forward on her knees and forelegs to reach the stubborn button of his trousers. Seconds later, she was reaching under him, tugging at the now loosened waistband, fishing the sturdy material off with minimal help. His boxers went immediately after.

"You're hard, Armin," Eren observed, leaning in a little. His boyfriend's cock was standing tall and proud, not quite the size of his own specimen, but finely shaped and plenty all the same. Eren though it was cute, to be honest, especially the way the head seemed to always be peeking out of the foreskin, but of course, Armin might be offended if he said so, and so he kept this to himself. He studied the way it swayed and lolled, obviously as hard as stone and eager for release. "Is it painful?" he asked, recognizing that it'd been trapped for quite a while.

Armin blushed and shook his head. "I'm okay."

Mikasa looked troubled by the notion that he might be uncomfortable. She wrapped a girlish hand around his handsome, teenaged cock, squeezing and releasing the excited organ to make sure it was getting enough blood.

Armin whined high in his throat and bucked into her hand, the skin sliding back on his erection to reveal his purpled glans, bulging with need.

"Easy now," Eren said, excitement creeping in his voice. "Just let Mikasa finish."

He arched his head back into the duvet and closed his eyes, trying not to get swept up in the throbbing pleasure of Mikasa's soft, pumping hand. "It's too good," he said, breathless. "Mikasa, please—"

"Alright," Eren said, and she stopped. "That's enough for now—you'll make me jealous."

Armin laughed breathlessly.

Mikasa rolled her eyes and moved on, helping Armin out of his last articles of clothing, the button up uniform shirt and the tee beneath it joining the rest of his discarded apparel in a pile on the floor. She slid up his naked side, cheeks warming, and settled a hand between his pectorals, strong and defined but still boyish, especially next to Eren's, or even hers. "You're so cute," she cooed, a doting inflexion flavoring her words sweet against his flushed skin. There was a little inward curl to his shoulders telling of shyness, and it set her nerves lightly ablaze. It was such an Armin reaction.

"Now you," Eren said softly, reminding Mikasa of her bra and panties.

'He wants to see me,' she thought, a rain shower of jolty feel-good sweeping through her body. Her nipples stiffened to the point of pain, the hairs on her arms and legs rose in goosebumps, her horny pussy moistened to the point of excess. 'He wants to see—he wants to _see_.'

She dug her nails into the soft flesh of Armin's sides, not enough to hurt him, but enough to bleed out some of her too-strong emotions. He gasped and whined into their kiss. "Undress me, honey," she said, almost pleading, eyebrows pressed together pitifully. "Eren wants to see."

He seemed to pick up on at least a little of the growing craze in her eyes, because he didn't argue or dally (not that he was one to do either of those things much anyway).

He tried to sit up and she let him, shifting her legs out from under herself. They were both sat up now, next-to and facing each other, thigh to thigh.

"Lift your arms," he said.

She did, raising them to the air in surrender, revealing creamy smooth armpits and more toned muscles. Even without looking, she could feel Eren's heavy gaze upon her, studying, reveling, loving. She shivered under his eye, and then harder when Armin's delicate, feminine fingers picked at her bra, ghosting and tickling the skin beneath her breasts. He tugged the snuggly-fitted cotton upwards, revealing her heavy breasts inch by inch, high and round but pliant to the touch. At a certain point, the athletic bra rose high enough that it could no longer retain a hold on her pert swells, and it released them with a heavy bounce that drew Eren and Armin's eyes like magic.

'Boys,' she thought, inordinately pleased. She got to see Sasha and Krista and all the other girls' breasts in the showers regularly, and didn't think that there was anything special about hers. Her boys were fascinated by them, though, and had trouble keeping their hands off of them, so she didn't mind having a slightly larger bust, even if it meant a more constrictive bra out in the field.

Armin and Eren's eyes met after a long couple seconds spent silently ogling her perky, grapefruit-sized breasts. They shared a little laugh, although Mikasa wasn't sure why, and then looked back.

"Lay down," Armin said, and so she did, abdominals straining a little as she lowered herself back.

His hands reached for her underwear, a simple cotton thing that was neither sexy nor prudish, but somewhere in-between for utility's sake.

"Up," he said, and she noticed his cock twitching in anticipation. Eren was leaning forward as well. However fascinated they were by the sight of her breasts, they were doubly amazed by her female sex—Eren especially. It made her feel like a queen, or some sort of goddess, the worshipful way they regarded her secret areas.

'Reciprocity,' she thought again, pushing her hips up into the air, 'is everything.'

Armin hooked his fingers into her waistband and pulled.

Eren watched Mikasa raise herself off the bed, watched Armin free her of her decency, watched the damp cotton get tossed to the side with the rest of their messily strewn clothes, watched it, watched it all—

But he was done watching, now, the mysterious folds of liquid pink, the pert alabaster idols of fertility, the shy, throbbing excitement—they were his, naturally, belonged to him by right, and now that they'd been oh-so tantalizingly revealed to him, were in awful need of his attentions, and he of theirs.

He stood from the chair, its grating legs against the floor drawing his lovers' notice.

"Ready?" he asked, answering for himself with a proud, aggressive erection.

" _Yes,"_ they said together, his arousal feeding theirs, feeding his, feeding theirs again; an electric loop of teenaged excitement and lust raising the stakes, stoking the fires, lowering the inhibitions.

Deciding how best to approach was his first order of business. Six arms, six legs, two cocks, and a limited number of places to put everything meant _somebody_ had to call the shots, and naturally that role fell to Eren. 'Sex foreman' was how he liked to think of himself during these times. The downside to being in charge was he had to take Armin and Mikasa's needs into account (and fuck, sometimes he just wanted to turn his brain off and go nuts). The upside to being in charge was that he was in charge.

"You ready for us?" he asked, looking at Mikasa. It was almost rhetorical—she'd never _not_ been ready for them—but he figured it to be good manners, and so asked anyway.

An uncharacteristic look of coyness glinted in her obsidian pools. Something'd gotten to her. In lieu of an answer, she reached down and spread her trimmed cunt lips, flashing her soaked pinkness at him. Eren and Armin both had known the paradise inside of her many times, and the pinprick of darkness where her maidenhead had once stood vigil, lovingly sacrificed to him in an oath of fidelity, called out for him once more.

He swallowed painfully. His skin felt hot and too-tight. A spell of dizziness swept over him as a rush of blood migrated south. He chuckled and stumbled towards the bed. "You seein' this, Armin?" he asked, and this time it really was rhetorical.

The blonde understood, but nodded anyway, his eyes just as captive to the lewd offering as Eren's. "She's soaked," he said, then looked at Mikasa. "You're soaked," he repeated. "Really, really soaked."

Eren chuckled again. "It's a good thing, too," he said, climbing onto the bed knees-first. "Ointment's in our room."

He was referring to the lubricating jelly they usually used, which was hidden safely away back in the top drawer of his dresser. They'd all taken it raw before, but tended to prefer hot, slippery friction over the rough stuff. Luckily, Mikasa's natural fuck-me was gushing freely this morning.

He crawled forward and saddled up against Mikasa's proffered sex, her legs folding in the air like wings to either side of him.

"You're such a tease," Eren said, dragging the tip of his fat, swollen cockhead up and down her liquid heat like a brush through paint, lathering himself slick with her fragrant fuck-me.

Mikasa caught on to what he was planning and stopped him, reaching between her legs and grabbing his wrist.

Eren was surprised—really, really surprised—actually. Of all the times they'd had sex in the past, and it was many, many times, she'd never once met him anything resembling resistance, no matter how kinky they got, and anal sex was _normal_ for their group, anyway.

'What's wrong?' he wondered, momentarily afraid that he'd made some mistake.

"S-sorry," she said, blushing a dark crimson.

His concern only grew—that Armin looked equally confused was a small reassurance. Mikasa _did not_ stutter.

She realized the moment was growing tense and blurted out her explanation.

"It's a safe day," she said, as though that cleared everything up. If Eren's brain had worked like Mikasa's, it might have, but even after all these years he didn't quite grasp the depths of her feelings.

"Okay," he said, eyebrows furrowing. 'So what?' his face said.

"S-so," she began, almost yelling. She realized it and averted her gaze. "So," she repeated, more quietly this time, "I thought maybe we could do it. You know," she hedged, looking back, something fathomless and _adult_ in her obsidian depths, "properly—like a married couple would…"

Armin seemed to grasp what she was trying to say. His liquid blue pools widened.

Eren still didn't understand. "Like a married couple?" he asked, looking over to Armin and back. "You mean just the two of us?"

"No!" she said, whipping her head to make sure Armin saw the honesty in her eyes. "That isn't— I didn't mean it like that."

Eren blinked, surprised by her vehemence. "Well, okay," he said, placating, "what _do_ you mean?"

She started to growl, stopped, sighed, rolled her eyes, and accepted that she'd have to just say it plainly for him. "What I'm trying to say is that I want you to come inside of me, Eren. What else could 'it's a safe day' possibly mean? You should just know that I want that, instead of making me say it."

"…oh," he said, blinking a few times.

Armin's shoulders bouncing in a silent laugh.

'Come inside of me, huh?' he thought, his body reacting in the only logical way. 'Properly, like a married couple… Sure, okay.'

Mikasa waited for Eren to come to terms with her request. As embarrassing as it'd been to say, she really didn't understand what was so strange about it. It was true that this was her first time asking him, but that was only because, in the past, she either hadn't known about her body's infertility cycles (Mrs. Yeager taught her a lot but probably hadn't wanted to encourage her at 10), or hadn't been sure how to use them to her advantage. She'd also wanted to be careful: Mikasa wasn't overestimating the impact her presence had on the field when she considered how her absence would affect the Corp—she was just being realistic—and if they messed up and conceived, that's exactly what would happen.

The smartest thing would be to continue playing it safe and not risk pregnancy at all, but…

She shivered and fisted the bedsheets, that familiar lightning storm of _feelgood_ arcing through her nervous system. Her horny teenaged sex physically ached for his touch. She tried, but couldn't stop thinking about how badly she needed to feel him inside of her belly, warm, filled, perfect—

'Oh, Eren,' she thought, mad with the _need_ , 'won't you please hurry up and realize it already?'

They were destined to be together, always had been, always would be, and so why oh _why_ wasn't he inside of her yet? It was all she wanted. It was all she'd ever wanted—to **be together** , and couldn't he see that? That when they weren't **together** , they were **apart**?

There was nothing so horrible in the entire world as that, as far as Mikasa was concerned. When people were **apart** , they were **alone**. She couldn't abide by that.

Luckily for her mental health (and possibly both Eren and Armin's physical health as well), the waiting, waiting, waiting came to an end, after an eternity for her (and just a few seconds for everybody else).

Eren's contemplative gaze was gone, a look of deepest tender and flattery in its place.

"Okay," he said. "Yeah, okay. Let's do it." He rolled off of her and onto the bed, and she followed without hesitation, mounting a bit high on his waist so that his arcing manhood was lined up with her weeping pussy. "Armin," he said, and she understood what he meant, leaning forward to bury her face into the crook of his neck, licking and nibbling at the sensitive flesh. She was feverish with the need to start but would defer to him; if he wanted their third point to take a dip in her honeypot first, she wouldn't object, and even reached back with her hands to spread herself wider for him as he nestled up behind her.

"Thanks," the blonde said, lining himself up with her wantonly offered secret.

Mikasa smothered a moan into Eren's neck as the slender head of Armin's cock pressed at her opening, pressuring but not quite penetrating the taut elasticity there. Every inch of her sex was tingling with charge, but her clitoris was sensitive beyond that.

She'd been stung once, around the age of six or seven, by a big, hairy honey bee. Her mother had tried to explain to her why the thing had attacked, but all she'd been able to focus on was the pulsing, pulsing, pulsing throb of pain. That was how her erect little clit felt now, pulsing, pulsing, pulsing, but instead of pain, it was throbbing to the beat of ecstasy, washing her mind away with wave after wave of that beautiful thing she called _feelgood._

Whether he was a god, a clairvoyant, or simply a skilled lover, Mikasa did not know, but the moment Armin's cockhead breached her hot, slippery entrance, Eren's rough fingertips found her button, and like a spark to a powderkeg, she blew.

Suddenly Mikasa was seeing the night sky, all brilliant, dancing white stars and flashes over a background of pitch. Her body was liquid fire. Nerves and synapses fired like cannons. Distantly, she could hear a muffled wailing sound, and after a second, realized it was coming from her own throat.

'Reciprocity,' she thought, coming back to herself, still shaking and coming, squeezing, assaulting Armin's poor boycock with her strangling, gushing cunt, coming and bucking up against Eren's fingers and back onto Armin's prick, 'really is everything.'

Eren weathered the storm that was Mikasa's thrashing, lunatic orgasm, his hand cradling the back of her head, his fingertips mushing up against her stiff button, his teeth sunken lightly into the supple, pale flesh between her neck and shoulder. He'd locked eyes with Armin over her back a few seconds into her screaming, studying his face as it pinched, gasped, and strained.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked, the words distorted by the flesh between his teeth.

Armin looked guilty, like he thought Eren might be angry at him. It was true that he felt a little jealous it wasn't his cock currently buried in Mikasa's coming cunt (was it possible not to?), but that hardly meant he was upset with his boyfriend for getting to enjoy the ride. A wink got his feelings more or less across.

"It's really good," Armin admitted, letting his eyes close in reserved revelry. "She's still squeezing me."

"She's still coming, I think," Eren said, and a shivery nod from Mikasa confirmed it. Eren ceased his nibbling, releasing the rosily marked flesh from between his incisors, and chuckled. "And here I thought _I_ was the pent-up one. We'll have to take better care of our girl in the future, Armin."

"If we have to…" Armin lamented, cracking the rare joke.

Eren chuckled some more and waited for Mikasa to come down from her high. When she finally did, he spoke again.

"You okay to keep going?" he asked, bumping his erection (which was starting to grow painfully hard) up into her lower belly. He wanted to give her a moment to recover if she needed it, but… "I can't wait much longer," he admitted. "Armin will take care of me if you need a few."

"Hey," the blonde objected weakly. "Don't say that like it's a forgone conclusion…"

They all knew that's exactly what it was, though, and so didn't even respond.

"No," she said, voice muffled by the bedsheets. She pulled back, pushing off the mattress to either side of his head. Her breasts hung like ripe fruit by his lips, and he resisted the urge to latch on (for now). "No," she repeated, looking down at him with complex feelings brewing in her eyes. "I'm ready for you. I'm _always_ ready for you. You don't even have to ask, baby—I'm _yours_ , you know. Just do whatever you want to me—I won't object."

A hundred and one tripwire bombs went off in Eren's questionably balanced brain at _that_.

There was a lewd, wet sound of friction as Armin extracted himself from Mikasa's scandalously wet cunt. In the back of his furiously horny brain, Eren made a mental note to fuck the petite boy stupid just as soon as he'd finished with Mikasa: his timing was the definition of immaculate: if he hadn't vacated their girlfriend at that exact moment, there was no telling what he might have done.

Eren didn't say anything. He just flexed his hips back, lined the engorged tip of his cockhead up with his lover's pussy, and flexed his hips forward.

Mikasa gasp-moaned as though she'd been stabbed, wailing in physical and emotional ecstasy as they coupled _hard_ , rising an inch off his thighs as his raging cock raped up her love-channel and knocked demandingly against her cervix.

"Eren!" she cried, lowering to her forearms to free up her hands, which wrapped themselves tightly around the back of his head, holding him hostage against her flushed, rosily marbled breasts. Her head curled down to the top of his, where she pressed frantic kisses into his crown.

He captured a stiff, pebbled nipple between his lips and sucked on it, setting his hips to repeat their assigned motion like a machine: flex back, flex up, flex back, flex…

She cried out and started coming once again, shooting off like a rocket in her oversensitivity. Armin's cock, still slobbery wet with her fuck-me-harder, drove her dangerously further, sinking down to the balls inside of her far from virginal asshole. Despite her panicked cunt walls' best attempts to strangle him still, Eren didn't even consider relenting in his assault, hammering in and out of his childhood friend with mindless, animalistic urgency. Armin, following his lead, tried his best to match his strokes, fucking Mikasa's erotic little pucker loose with desperate little "Ah, ah, ah!" grunts of carnality.

Mikasa had given up attempting to meet her boys' raping cocks, their beast-like tempos mismatched and erratic. Rather than try and participate, she simply allowed them to use her, lovingly surrendering the sovereignty of her body, reveling wantonly under their merciless attention. Armin had his hands resting on her rocking, bouncing cheeks, gripping the pliant flesh there to better stuff himself inside her, already generating a hot, hot, _hot_ friction that heated her insides. He was surprisingly rough in his work, attacking her secondary cock-sleeve with long, tip-to-root plunges that sent her lurching.

However impassioned Armin's love-making was, Eren's was much, much more. He crashed his body up into hers like thunder, sheathing every inch of himself deep within her most secret place. Their pubic hairs met and scratched lightly against each other, his cockslit mushed rough kisses up against her tender womb-door, his lips and teeth tortured her nipples with agonizingly good bites and sucks and kisses and rolls, demanding the milk she'd one-day produce for their children, his hands gripped her wide, womanly hips with a surety only a husband could possess.

The thoughts of family and matrimony and little blue and seafoam eyed children made Mikasa's eyes dampen and her heart swell and her pussy squirt.

Armin gasped in delight, slowed, saw Eren _speed up_ , and rushed to match him. Mikasa had never been so happy for Armin's deference towards Eren before in her entire life—with the two of them ramping up, she was able to ride the flood of bliss and mania and hot, geyser-like girlcome to its zenith, and then stay there.

She burrowed deeper into Eren's soft tresses, wailing a muffled wail of love and perfection, crying tears of unfathomable physical pleasure and wholesome, soul-deep joy.

'It's perfect, it's perfect, it's perfect,' she thought, over and over again, her thoughts, like her coming sex, like her burning anus, like her ticklish breasts, stuck on a loop of _feelgood feelgood feelgood._ There was a twitch deep within her ass, and suddenly Armin was joining her among the orgasming elite, long, slender member filling her up like a bowl, thick, viscous boycome melting her from the inside out. She could feel his urethra lurching like a drunk's throat, delivering glob after glob of searing sperm deep inside her body.

A helpless, "huuh~" sound seeped from his lips behind her, but Mikasa couldn't manage a backward look, despite her desire to watch as he came up inside her asshole. She tried, but her body refused to move from its locked position, Eren's endless fucking (flex back, flex up, flex back, flex up) paralyzing her with its rapturous glory, sustaining her rhythmic _squirt, squirt, squirting_ cunt's heaving orgasm all by itself.

Behind her, Armin, finally done spilling himself inside her whorehole, pulled himself free of her abused rosebud with a quiet sigh and stepped back.

Eren seized the gap in their till-then restrictive position and _flexed_ , hooking his heels in the side of her bed and sitting up, crunching her whole body's limp weight in addition to his ( _squirt_ 'so strong!' _squirt_ ), sending them into an intimate sat-up coupling, her legs hooked together behind his buttocks, his behind hers.

"Eeerrrren!" she cried, careless if anybody else heard her, finally free to meet his raping thrusts with her own, bucking her trimmed cunt forwards against his in perfect synchronization. He could reach even deeper inside her in this position, and she got to feel the sore pleasure of his spongey glans stretch the bottom of her elastic cunt, pressing up and against the doorway which only his seed and offspring were allowed behind.

His thickly bulging forearms locked behind her like a vice, smashing her breasts together against his wide pectorals. She imagined what they must look like and squirted again, soaking his pubic hairs and abdominals in her aphrodisiac girlsquirt. He met and then dominated her lips with his own, sucking and tonging at them, and then the inside of her mouth, with enough loving fervor to drive her mad.

A shock like hurled bolts of lightning slammed into her center, and after a fraction of a second spent stupefied, Mikasa realized that it hadn't been lightning, but _come_ , which had struck her: hot, boiling boycome.

'InMeInMeInMeINME!' she thought like a genuine madwoman, singing her mantra in her head as her body shook in sensory overload. The tip of his cockhead was lined up immaculately with the eye of her womb, hosing her fertile temple down with thick, sperm-rich ropes of _Eren Yeager_. It was a safe day, it was a safe day, it was a safe day, but 'Oh God!' didn't she wish, all of a sudden, that it **wasn't?** As he constricted tighter and tighter around her quivering body, holding her in place like a beast for _some odd reason she couldn't begin to understand_ , it was all Mikasa could think about—how perfect they were together, how happy they'd be, how good a job they'd do raising little ones. They could run away from all of this, hole up somewhere nice and secret. She'd cook, clean, and protect them; Armin could teach the children and keep her company, and Eren could lead their family to happiness and prosperity—it was a perfect, golden vision. As she shivered in his sure clutches, coming and squirting and being come in, Mikasa had to stop herself from weeping, such was her overbearing euphoria.

"I love you so much," she whispered, voice hoarse from her constant moaning and wailing and keening.

They didn't say it too much for fear it'd lose its luster, but she said it now, and meant it with every fiber of her being.

He said it back, and she almost cried again.

'Reciprocity,' she thought, 'really is everything.'

Armin's liquid blue pools softened like melting marshmallows—Eren and Mikasa were just too much sometimes. He doubted he'd ever seen anything as sweet or erotic or beautiful as his two lovers were now: intertwined, sweating, panting, orgasming—again, it was too much.

He returned to the bed and joined them, resting on his knees, saddling up to Mikasa's bare, arcing back, Eren's ankles unlocking for him, resting to his sides.

The fairest point in their triangular covenant sagged back into him, still impaled upon Eren's slowly-flagging manhood. Her head lolled back and rested against his collarbone, mussed tresses of silken darkness spilling down his bare chest and shoulder.

"I love you too, Armin," she told him, exhausted obsidian gems half-lidded and sincere.

His eyes softened further. "I know," he said, resting his cheek against hers, kissing butterflies into her neck where Eren had marked her. His hands snaked down her belly and cradled. "Me too."

Eren let out a kind of groaning sigh and reached past Mikasa, resting his hands on Armin's pale hips, his thumbs dipping the skin with the surety that they belonged there.

Armin smiled a friendly grin his way, peeking up through his light eyebrows.

"I'm not done," he said, the words sounding almost like a warning.

Those fine eyebrows Armin was studying him through rose incredulously.

Mikasa's hands rubbed up Eren's chest, coming to find each other in a lace behind his neck. "We can keep going, baby," she said, looking through the droopy eyes of a satisfied, worn-out woman.

Armin studied her with a mystified fascination. Something about the way she thought…—sometimes, the ten months she had on him seemed more like ten years. There was something timeless swimming around in her depths, and it amazed him.

Eren was oblivious to his awe and just shook his head. "Tonight," he said, looking from him to her. "We can do it again tonight," he explained. "We were too rough with you—any more now and we'd hurt you."

Mikasa raised her head just enough to look more directly at the most willful point of their triangle, still resting most of her weight back against him. "I'm okay—"

"Tonight," he repeated, a distinctly _Eren_ mix of amusement and finality putting the matter to rest.

She leaned back into him and didn't object again. An all-but silent sigh of relief told Armin that he'd made the right call.

'But of course, that means…'

Eren watched him with heavy seafoam come-hithers, his thumbs massaging soft circles into his hips.

"I'm spent, Eren…" Armin said, trying and failing to hide a half-needy half-petulant whine in his soft voice.

One dark eyebrow rose on his handsome, handsome face.

Armin felt his reluctance weaken.

"I mean it," he insisted, lying.

Eren's circling thumbs felt heavenly, digging into his skin, and _God_ , didn't he look handsome with his bedhead…

Eren smirked a cocky smirk. His resistance weakened further.

"Let me woo you," Eren said, sliding his grip down from his hips to his ass, squeezing handfuls of sensitive skin and fat and muscle between his trespassing digits.

Armin gasped despite himself.

Mikasa let out a low, pitiful moan, and Armin didn't need to see it to know that Eren's champion cock had hardened for round three.

The last of his resistance crumbled. He didn't actually _say_ "okay", but then, he didn't have to—Eren recognized the look on his face, grinned, crowed, "Fabulous,", and dealt with the girl stuck between them.

"C'mon," he said, pulling her back carefully, his manhood still buried in her raw sex. Horizontal once again, Mikasa did the rest, gingerly rolling off the teenaged shifter, careful not to bend his erection as she dismounted. He kissed her, pat her hair in an almost fatherly gesture, and turned back to him, resting back on an elbow.

'So handsome…' Armin repeated, the thought especially persistent this morning.

Hypnotic seafoam regarded him through half-lids. His cock was fat and shiny, but not yet fully rigid, and rested against his muscular thigh proudly. Armin was awed and a little intimidated by his partner's vitality. He looked like a god, or some kind of painting, Armin thought: laying back with that lazy, sexual confidence, Mikasa half-observing half-dozing by his side, already tamed, strong muscles and gorgeous colors and unabashed nudeness all temping him with the visual equivalent of a siren's song.

He beckoned for him with one perfect finger, and Armin was helpless to deny him what he wanted. He crawled closer and laid prone between his lovers, resting his cheek down into a pillow, his arms folded neatly beneath the downy softness.

"Close your eyes."

He did, letting out a calming sigh as he realized how comfortable he actually was. Eren's deliciously warm calves and thighs encased the top of his legs and bottom of his buttocks. Armin settled further into the pillow. He could feel the thick, masculine heat of his boyfriend's cock rest between his supple backside. He nibbled his lip and relaxed further. "Woo me."

Strong, calloused hands came down to palm at his back, digging slow, rehearsed patterns and circles into his muscles and flesh.

He moaned into Mikasa's pillow as Eren began working his divine magic, unwinding knots of tension in his back and shoulders and glutes that he didn't even know had existed. His toes curled, and his breaths became soft, throaty moans. He loved massages. _Loved_ them.

Eren traced firm, electrifying paths up his back, kneading and working Armin's boyish flesh like dough. His fingertips dug sweeping crescent strokes alone the lines of his different muscles, which melted in pleasure at his touch. The rough pads of his palms ground down into the stressed and agitated knots peppering his back and shoulders and neck. Armin could feel himself turning to putty, loosening more and more as his seducing masseuse inflicted tender bliss upon his body.

"Does that feel good, sweetheart?" Mikasa asked beside him. He turned and saw that she was resting on her side, droopy obsidian gems studying them with slow-burning adore.

He managed something approaching an affirmative groan, peeking at her through cracked eyelids. If Eren's goal had been to massage him into a coma, he was well on his way. He licked his lips and tried again. "Yeah," he said, a little grin growing on his lips, "much better than he used to be."

Mikasa giggled. He was referring to the awkward, often more painful than pleasurable massages he'd subjected them to near the beginning of their relationship—just as eager to please and be pleased as he was now, but way worse at it. He'd grown remarkably more skilled after time and practice, but Armin liked to bring Eren's initial attempts up from time to time as a fond memory.

Eren's hands slid off his back as he leaned forward, resting his naked body flush against Armin's backside, his elbows digging into the bed on either side of his golden locks.

"Hey now," he began, a playful timber in his voice as he spoke into the curve of Armin's ear, grinding and arching into his hot, bothered skin, "if you want me to stop, all you have to do is say so."

Armin's lips curved in a close-eyed grin. "Nobody said stop…"

Eren's nose buried itself behind his ear, tickling him with every breath. "So don't stop?" he asked, now balancing his weight on just one arm, sending the other south where it cupped and squeezed pale globes of flesh.

"Don't stop," Armin agreed, face now almost entirely buried in the downy pillow, his quiet voice coming out muffled and shy.

"Don't stop," Armin whimpered beneath him.

'Don't worry about that,' Eren thought, transitioning from sniffing to licking at Armin's (surprisingly tasty) ear, alternating nibbling and blowing on the erogenous flesh, sending shivers down the supple blonde's body.

'Am I still good?' Eren wondered, excitement beginning to fill his skull with a thick lusty fog. He retasked his butt-squeezing hand with checking, and found his cock to still be more than slick enough. Armin was an accommodating lover, but so was he, and he'd run back to their room bare-ass and get their ointment if that's what he wanted.

Luckily, there didn't seem to by any need.

Eren finally freed his cartilage prisoner and sat back, repositioning the two of them until they were both comfortably on their knees, Armin bent over, hugging the pillow abashedly, and he upright, saddled behind the blonde in age-old doggystyle.

'So lewd…' Eren thought distantly, painfully erect at the sight of Armin's proffered form, something about the way he was bent over and arched appeasing the beast in his brain.

"Eren…" Armin whined. There was encouragement in that whine—he was as ready.

He lowered his calloused hands down onto Armin's girlish cheeks, pulling them apart gingerly to reveal a gorgeous gradient of hues, bleeding from alabaster to rose to coral. His center was impossibly tight and symmetrical—a perfect ring of cutely wrinkled pleasure and heat that was deliciously clean, hairless, and fragrant.

The logistics of this kind of thing never really bothered Eren—he was, as an embarrassed Armin had pointed out once—a complete caveman when it came to that kind of thing. Armin took his presentation seriously, though, and since Eren couldn't pretend he didn't appreciate it, had followed suit.

And he certainly appreciated it _now_ , as Armin moaned beneath his hands and gaze and intentions, spread apart like a bought-whore for him, handsome boycock lolling helplessly towards the bed. Eren knew his lover's hygiene was beyond question, and so didn't hesitate to lean in and begin sampling.

"No!" Armin cried beneath his touch, wriggling but not much else. "Eren, I'm not-"

His protest was cut off by another cry.

Eren could guess what Armin was trying to say, but continued anyway—he smelled and tasted only of salty sweat and must, which Eren found terribly erotic. Armin's muffled mewling, his raised, nubile ass, his pheromone-rich scent, all of it served to goad the fires of Eren's lust-addled mind higher and higher, till there was nothing left for him to do—nothing left that he _could do_ —except pull back and dive in.

Armin's shy rosebud swallowed three fat inches of his invading cock before seizing tight, a deeply throaty moan reverberating through the mattress below as the blonde tried to come to terms with their coupling, thick wads of the pillow clutched tightly between his fingers.

Behind him, Eren wasn't faring much better. The stranglehold on his member was divine—the heat, the pressure, the twitching—all of it bewitched him, and he found himself pressing forward too soon.

A panicked kind of keen came from beneath him, and Eren immediately stopped. He hadn't hurt Armin, but if he'd gone much further without letting the blonde re-relax, he might have.

A kind of **hu-huff** , double sigh from the pillow. "Okay," Armin's small voice said.

Eren could hear him panting and feel him relaxing. The brief look of concern faded from Mikasa's eyes beside them.

"Go ahead," Armin said, arcing even more promiscuously, the lewd valley of his ass angling higher, his own handsome cock and balls straining pink and purple and red in the cavernous space beneath their coupling.

Eren massaged the luscious swells pillowing his cock as it sank ever deeper, a hot, slippery glide into the welcoming flesh accompanied by sighs and moans and groans. Eren got about three quarters of the way inside of his boyfriend when his dangling cock twitched again.

He spared a quick look at Mikasa, and, getting a nod from the unnaturally in-tune-with-him girl, turned back, focusing on massaging the glutes, pausing in his love-making.

"Want us to…?" he asked, slipping a hand down and around the petite blonde's comely waist, gripping his au naturel boyhood like it was his own (in many ways, Eren considered this to be so).

A negative **uh-uh** from the pillow.

Eren, not particularly interested in pushing the issue if Armin said so, asked, "You sure?" just to check.

Pink lips and closed, lightly pinched eyes peeked out to the side. His lips moved as though to speak, paused, and then went ahead. "This is a good angle," he said. "You won't have to touch that to make me come…"

Eren's heart beat louder in his ears. There was a twitch in his cock, and from him hiding his face again and mewling, he though Armin had felt it.

"Okay," he said, voice thicker than before. His hand retreated from Armin's handsome cock back to his ass, where he cupped low, near the thigh, and massaged upwards, expertly targeting a cluster of nerves he knew lived along Armin's natural seam.

More mewling and keening, still muffled but louder now, leaked from the pillow. Mikasa snaked one hand down the gorgeous naked vista that was her body and found her clit once again. She tweaked and teased at it gently, scooting closer to their joining forms till her breasts were pressed against Armin's ribs. She rested on the same pillow as him, listening to the quiet sounds of his torturous love while she masturbated.

'Is there any better way,' Eren wondered, ensconcing the rest of his plump manhood inside his boyfriend, 'to start the day?' They'd been making love for close to an hour now and couldn't afford another, but Eren was able to make peace with that. When his mission in life was finally accomplished, he'd sequester the three of them away somewhere and spend all of his time like this. Till then, these little stolen moments would do.

He was firmly planted in Armin's poor, gaping ass, the previously-sealed ring of erotic flesh stretched wide and gorgeous around the root of his entrenched cock. He could feel the warm, drawn skin of the petite blonde's scrotum beneath his own heavy stones, and marveled at how absolutely _adorable_ Armin was in that moment.

In the next moment, he began, grabbing harsh handfuls of asscheek that pillowed between his fingers, using the link as an anchor to ensure the angle of his strokes agitated that magical bulb of ecstasy as much as possible. Said strokes were as long and tender as the whining moans his boyfriend was releasing, painting the quiet room in sensual cries and gasps as Eren drove his ramrod in and out of Armin's elastic rosebud.

"Do you like that, baby?" Mikasa asked, deft fingers speeding up. She was alternating between worrying her lip and talking dirty to Armin, mushing at her clit with a slickened hand in circular strokes. "You can feel that little bulge near his base, right? Doesn't if feel good, bumping against your prostate?"

Armin whined and shook his head incomprehensibly. The very next thrust massaged the sensitive bulb in question exactly as she'd described, and he devolved further into a state of dumbfounded euphoria.

For his part, Eren barely paid any attention to Mikasa at all, having become preoccupied with the desire to try something. When next his cock completed its rapid, aggressive pilgrimage into the crushing heat of Armin's insides, rather than stop near the crown on the backstroke, Eren pulled himself completely free of the addicting whorehole.

His eyes grew wide and his cock lurched. Beneath him, Armin gasped. His ass gaped in stupid search of Eren's cock, winked, and then got what it wanted, with Eren raping back down hard enough to drive Armin inches up the bed. He was half-wailing now, and judging by the particular sound of his cries, had a fair bit of pillow clenched between his teeth. Eren took only enough heed of this to enjoy it, instead focusing mostly on his new favorite thing. He fucked rapidly, punishing Armin's abused anus with growing ferocity, earning himself the adoring eyes of Mikasa, the fluttering love of Armin's muscles and cock, and the agonized, ecstasy-laden keens of his blonde lover. He used his weight to drive his fat cockhead into the petite blonde's wantonly surrendered fuck-sleeve, and then his hips to drill even harder, once he'd sunken as far as he could go. After five or six of these violently hard humps, he'd extract himself once again to stare at that yawning hole, so fantastically vulgar in its lewd proof of his effect on the blonde's body, and then fuck him again, each time with somehow more fervor.

After almost a dozen trips round this sinful track, with both Eren's broader, more muscular body, and Armin's thinner, lither one soaked in perspiration, Eren felt that _clench-clench-clench_ that always heralded pearly-white love from Armin, and did his own little cock-twitch shuffle as his peak arrived in tune.

With one last full-length thrust, full of love and lust and animal instinct, Eren felt himself tip over the edge for the third time that morning, spilling his hot, milky seed deep within Armin's belly, groaning and grunting and flexing forwards like a beast all the while.

Beneath him, Armin was coming too, his own viscous seed launching forth in globby ropes of sperm-rich boycome, painting a patch of Mikasa's sheets a brilliant white. His face was still safely muffled by the pillow, and so Armin didn't bother holding back, wailing his love as boiling hot jizzum splashed around inside of him, the most perfect feeling of wholeness he'd ever experienced coating his stunned brain like a warm blanket. He could feel the thick come-tube of Eren's manhood lurching and pulsing against his sore prostate, pushing his orgasm past simple pleasure and into that quasi-divine realm he sometimes got to visit. Mikasa stifled a moan of her own beside him, coming gently around her own fingers, prompting another couple splurts of sinfully good orgasm out of his tingling cock. Behind him, Eren's own orgasm began losing steam, and he wound up folding over his back, placing butterfly kisses that set his heart racing that little bit faster, to where he had to bury himself deeper into the pillow, overcome with physical and emotional bliss.

Eren draped himself over Armin's supple nudity, licking and kissing and nibbling at the pinned boyflesh beneath him with a swollen heart and flagging erection. He wanted to say the words again, those sweet, promise-filled words, but refrained. They'd agreed not to wear them out needlessly, and he'd like to think, in that moment, they were all on the same page anyway. So, instead, he continued kissing and groping, removing himself from atop and within Armin after he'd passed the hypersensitivity phase, rolling onto his back between his two lovers.

Mikasa was immediately upon him, threading a leg over and back under his own, her breasts molded to his ribs, one gorgeous, muscular arm draped domestically over his chest, where she played idly with the few curls nestled between his pecs. Her full, womanly lips pressed up into his jaw once, then once again, and then she stopped, electing to just rest her cheek down against his shoulder instead, nestling into the space beneath his jaw, flowing strands of inky black hair, all mussed up from their vigorous love-making, draping over him here and there.

Armin, after a protracted few minutes spent regaining control over his body, joined them as well, mirroring Mikasa's spousal intertwining on the other side, holding her hand atop his chest companionably.

"Isn't this…" she started to ask, blushing too hard to finish the question.

Armin blushed too and nodded.

Eren was less reluctant. "Perfect?" he asked, looking down from his propped up position, arms folded back behind his tussled mop.

Liquid blue and obsidian peeked up at him.

He chuckled and closed his eyes, relaxing back. "Yeah," he said, and they snuggled in closer, coiling and pressing tighter into him, "I think that sounds about right."

Armin sighed and closed his eyes. There wasn't enough time to nap, but he could pretend for a little bit longer. Eren was like an oven beneath his cheek, and combined with the thrumming pleasure and happy thoughts filling him, threatened to lull him straight to sleep. He rubbed lovingly at the back of Mikasa's hand and laid still.

Mikasa's dark eyes softened to goo at Armin's cute exhaustion, and she captured a few of his fingers when he rubbed. Everything was so lovely and warm—especially Eren. He was warm beneath her cheek, against her breasts, within her womb. She'd never been so satisfied and cozy before in her life, and the love and _feelgood_ ran through her freely. She sighed and followed Armin's lead, closing her eyes and snuggling closer.

Eren just enjoyed the warmth and love and satisfaction he could feel radiating from his lovers, letting it heal some of the smaller gashes in his soul, and shallow the rest. They felt dangerously good, pressed and coiled against him, warm and naked and satisfied. There was a little humming sound of content leaking from Armin's throat, his vocal chords vibrating lightly as he breathed. On his other side, he could feel Mikasa's generous breasts rise and fall in tune with his breaths. She'd probably synchronized her breathing to his…

He sighed and relaxed back, giving in and closing his own eyes. Their little bundle was just too warm and comfortable to resist, and he found himself drifting off faster than he thought possible.

The last thought he had before the sweet embrace of sleep took him was of something Mikasa had a tendency to say.

'Reciprocity,' he thought, falling asleep beneath the embrace of his two lovers, 'is everything.'


End file.
